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Jeongguk has no idea how he got here.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He knows how he got here.

His mom and dad love each other a lot. He’d enrolled at school in Seoul. He met Jimin at a dance recital and met Taehyung while standing outside of a musical rehearsal. He tried to make dinner two weeks ago and set a small fire on the stove. His fifth fire of the month. Jimin found a cooking class online and signed Jeongguk up. Taehyung drove him here and lied that they were getting lunch.

What Jeongguk means is he has no idea how he got here, staring at his future husband at the head of the class introduce himself as the head chef. He’s tall and broad and he’s wearing a fucking pink apron and Jeongguk loves it, loves the chef hat he wears.

“Good afternoon, class,” he says, standing in front of the room and Jeongguk regrets taking the work station furthest in the back. There’s a giraffe in front of him with faded roots. “My name is Seokjin. You’ll call me Chef Seokjin or nothing at all. Today we’re going to start with something simple, and over the next ten weeks we’ll gradually move on to more difficult dishes.”

Seokjin starts to explain the recipe, even going so far as to pick up every tool at the example station to tell every student what it is, what it’s used for, and the proper way to use it. Jeongguk scoffs, but then he remembers telling Jimin the apple peeler was broken only for Jimin, with the straightest face Jeongguk has ever seen, to take the peeler and flip it over so the sharp side could cut the skin of the apple, and Jeongguk pays a little more attention.

Not enough attention, however, because Seokjin’s got his shirt rolled up to reveal his forearms and they’re nice and veiny, and his lips are pouty when he talks, and he laughs at a pun even when no one else does.

Then Seokjin is dismissing the class to begin the recipe and oh, oh no. Jeongguk has no fucking clue what he’s supposed to be doing.

There’s a printout of the recipe on his workstation, so Jeongguk quickly reads it over. He spends five minutes trying to understand if red peppers are the same as yellow peppers and falls behind. The girl at the station next to his is already sautéing onions in a pan, and the giraffe in front of him us chopping the packaged meat and Jeongguk doesn’t know how the fuck to julienne a pepper.

But Jeongguk is nothing if he’s not competitive, so he grabs the biggest knife in the block and starts chopping peppers, smashing onions, and doesn’t add any garlic because he doesn’t know what the fuck garlic looks like. He throws everything in a pan, checks the recipe and drowns it all in oil before hitting the heat.

Jeongguk doesn’t understand how stir-fry counts as an easy recipe. What the fuck. There are so many steps to the recipe, it’s supposed to take over an hour? Who’s got an hour to waste on cooking?

If it can’t be made in thirty seconds in the microwave it can’t be part of Jeon Jeongguk’s diet.

“Hey, Panini head. Are you listening to me?”

Fingers snap in front of Jeongguk’s eyes and he blinks, still wielding the knife like it’s the only thing he knows how to hold. Seokjin stands in front of him, looking incredibly unamused as Jeongguk stares and his mouth falls open because holy shit Seokjin is even more beautiful up close.

“D-Did…?” Jeongguk looks to the left, where the girl is flipping her perfectly cooked meat, and frowns. Who the fuck took a cooking class when they already knew how to make more than cereal? Seokjin is still waiting, eyebrow raised and chef hat sitting proper on top of his head. “Did you just call me a Panini head?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“How does one act like a Panini head?”

“They act like you.”

“Hey! Can you even say that? To a student?”

“I just did,” Seokjin says smugly. “How does one burn bell peppers?”

“What?” Jeongguk blinks, then he smells something burning and turns to find his mixture of peppers and onions burning black on the stove. “Fuck!”

Seokjin walks around the counter to crank down the heat. “Watch your fucking language in my kitchen. Why would you have the heat on high?”

Jeongguk scowls, scraping the peppers and onions into the trash. No one even likes peppers. When he throws the pan back on the stove, Seokjin is leaning against the counter and watching him. “So it can cook faster? And I can eat it sooner?”

“That is-”

“Super smart, right?” Jeongguk says, turning the heat on high and putting the pan back on. Seokjin immediately turns it off. “I’m like, a cooking genius.”

“That is incredibly wrong,” Seokjin says, and it sounds like he’s trying very hard not to sigh. “Cooking is not just about satisfying hunger. It’s an art.”

“Okay, Socrates. Then why do we cook when we’re hungry?”

“Why do we go to fancy restaurants for dates?”

“Are you asking me out?”

Seokjin scoffs, chokes a little, and laughs a laugh that sounds like the broken windshield wipers on Taehyung’s car. He even goes so far as to wipe an imaginary tear before he finishes. At least Jeongguk hopes it’s imaginary. “Never in your wildest dreams, Panini brain. What’s your level?”

“Fifty-six.”

“Fifty-six? What fucking cooking scale are you using?”

“Oh,” Jeongguk laughs, leaning comfortably against the counter. “I thought you meant on Fortnite.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Jeongguk grabs a handful of peppers and spices and faces Seokjin with thinly veiled panic in his eyes. “What does garlic look like?”

With a flat expression, Seokjin grabs a bulb of garlic from the counter and puts it on the top of the pile in Jeongguk’s hands. He takes one more look at Jeongguk and sighs, walking away to check on the rest of the students and Jeongguk huffs. He’ll show this guy. Sure, Jeongguk once burned water but that doesn’t mean he’ll be the worst cook in this class.

Jeongguk reads the recipe with purpose, marks it up with a pen that he finds in a drawer, and sets the heat on high with a resolve to not forget about the veggies cooking this time. At the end, Jeongguk has a bowl of something that looks like stir-fry when Seokjin walks around again to check everyone’s food.

“Did you season the meat? It looks red.” Seokjin asks, prodding at the bowl with his chopsticks.

Jeongguk freezes where he’s washing dishes at the sink. “I used Tabasco, isn’t that right?”

Seokjin puts the bowl down and dismisses the class for the week.

Jeongguk’s phone rings while he’s waiting for the subway.

“What.”

“Rude. Pick up pizza on your way back,” Taehyung says, chewing through something that’s probably Jeongguk’s. “I ordered. Jimin even paid. Thank your sugar daddies.”

Jeongguk hangs up but he turns around to transfer subway lines to hit their favorite pizza place and walk the last three blocks to their apartment. He knocks for five minutes because he can’t reach his keys before they seem to remember his existence and Taehyung opens the door, opens the box on top, and shoves half a piece of pizza in his mouth before letting Jeongguk in.

“Chef of the year,” Taehyung says, lips bright with tomato sauce. Jimin perks up from the couch. “Oof, we stan.”

Jimin pops up in his line of sight to snatch both pizza boxes and run to the couch. With a giant bottle of Coke, Taehyung follows with napkins because they’re civilized, thank you very much. Even if Taehyung gets his greasy mouth all over the lip of the bottle and Jimin doesn’t bat an eye when he drinks from it next. That’s not the worst fluid they’ve shared, Jeongguk figures.

Toeing off his shoes and chucking his hoodie onto the table next to Taehyung’s abandoned grad work, Jeongguk fits himself into the space leftover on the couch, shoving his face into Jimin’s thigh and his feet on Taehyung’s lap.

They let him, Jimin feeding him pieces of pepperoni and crust because he’s a monster who doesn’t eat the crust and Taehyung plays with his toes because of course Taehyung plays with his toes. Taehyung starts speaking over the movie, launching into a poetic declaration of love and Jimin plays the other part, giving a tearful rejection even though the movie is about something lame. Then the movie ends, Jimin turns off the TV, and Taehyung pinches Jeongguk’s pinky toe.

“How was class?” Jimin asks, trying in vain to braid Jeongguk’s hair. “Are you Gordon Ramsay level now? Can we finally leave you unsupervised in the kitchen?”

“Did you learn how to cook ramen?” Taehyung asks, snickering a little. He presses his finger into a point in Jeongguk’s foot that has him jolting, his entire foot seizing up. “How the fuck can you be Asian and burn ramen?”

“Remember his first year of college?” Jimin laughs. “You found him in the kitchenette, holding a cup of ramen and when you asked what was wrong he said, ‘Are the noodles supposed to be charred?’”

Taehyung throws his head back and laughs, or at least Jeongguk thinks he does. That’s usually what he does when they’re making fun of Jeongguk. “I’d seen him, what? Twice? Took his hand and brought him to our lunch table and he nearly cried he was so happy.”

“Thank RM-nim that we can cook,” Jimin says, patting the top of Jeongguk’s head.

“Well-”

“Thank RM-nim we can cook better than Jeongguk.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Taehyung says. “Do you think he died?”

Jimin blows at the top of the coke bottle and makes a horrible sound. “I sure hope not. I’m not ready to bury a body.”

“Not dead,” Jeongguk says, turning his head a little. “Dying.”

“Damn, aren’t we all?”

“Shut up, Tae.” Jimin strokes his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair. “Did something happen in your class today?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung pinches his pinky toe again. “Something bad?”

“No.”

“We’re going to need a little more than that, Guk,” Jimin says.

Jeongguk flops onto his back, puts on his best pout. “I’m in love,” Jeongguk laments, hides his face behind his palms. “Met the love of my goddam life and I need you two to send out wedding invitations.”

“Got it,” Taehyung says seriously. “Do you want eggshell or pure white invitations?”

“Who the fuck wants eggshell?”

Jimin leans over to smack the back of Taehyung’s head. “Don’t encourage this. You fall in love with anime boys all the time, how is this different?”

“This boy is real,” Jeongguk whines. “He’s real and he’s beautiful.”

“But I’ve been here all day,” Taehyung says, tilting his head.

“Shut up. He’s- actually you guys might be equal,” Jeongguk says, shoves his foot in Taehyung’s face and squeals when Taehyung grabs it. “Your face makes me angry but his makes me want to live life on my knees- don’t say it, Jimin hyung.”

“Fine.” Jimin snickers, even though they’re all thinking it. “Who is it? I hope it was a good student, they can cook for you when Taehyung and I finally ditch your sorry ass.”

Jeongguk whines, avoids the question by leaning over and shoving two pieces of pizza, stacked on top of each other, into his mouth. Tricks his body that way, his stomach only thinks it is only one piece and then he doesn’t have to feel guilty. It doesn’t work for long; in fact it doesn’t work at all, because a minute later Taehyung is trying to get the dirty lip of the Coke bottle in Jeongguk’s mouth. Either he speaks or drinks two sets of backwash.

Jeongguk plays with Taehyung’s fingers, splayed on his stomach. “It’s the instructor,” he says. “The head chef. I want him so far up my guts I choke for days.”

“Disgusting,” Jimin says. “Save that shit for marriage.”

“You’ve fucked me!”

“Not the point. What are you going to do about chef guy?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Admire from afar and jerk off to him in the shower?”

“As productive as that sounds,” Taehyung sighs. “Maybe try talking to him? He’ll be teaching you to cook for the next nine weeks. Pretend to cut your finger and ask him to suck the ouchie out.”

Both Jeongguk and Jimin give him a disgusted look. Taehyung opens his mouth. Jeongguk covers it with his foot. “Don’t you dare suggest I replace my finger with my dick, hyung.”

Taehyung scowls. “You guys are so lame. What’s your idea, Jimin? If mine is so bad?”

“Oh, I don’t have any ideas,” Jimin waves that thought away. “But I bet you Jeongguk doesn’t make a move and complains about it for the rest of the summer.”

“You’re on. Thirty thousand won to Jeongguk getting chef guy’s number.”

“Prepare to lose, Fake Ninety-Fiver.”

“I’m literally sitting right here.”

The next week, Seokjin has them making ice cream. Jeongguk wonders if it has something to do with the small fire that someone set on the stove last week. It wasn’t him, which means Jeongguk already isn’t the worst student in class. So phase one of his plan has already been achieved.

Phase Two: Get Seokjin’s dick in his mouth.

He’ll work on that more next week because who the fuck could have imagined that making ice cream was this difficult?

“Do you always get this messy?” Seokjin asks, leaning on his elbows at Jeongguk’s counter. He’d chosen a station up front and paid even less attention to the introduction. “You have cream on your nose.”

Jeongguk wipes at it with his bicep, too busy trying to mix the ice cream. His hands are covered in cream and sugar, sticky little crystals. He wonders if licking them off would help his cause. “Do you like when I’m messy for you, Seokjin-ssi?”

“It’s Chef Seokjin. Have you chilled your bowl?”

“What?”

“Oh my God.”

Seokjin sighs and picks up the recipe, gesturing for Jeongguk to join. He puts down the giant bowl and grimaces at it. They’re making vanilla ice cream, so why is his mixture turning pink? Jeongguk stands close to Seokjin but not too close because then he might know, and that’s the last (read:best) thing that Jeongguk needs. With a pen, Seokjin goes over the recipe with him, explains each ingredient and shows Jeongguk where to find it in the kitchen.

Together, they compile the few ingredients and at a simple question Seokjin ends up showing Jeongguk each of the knives and their purposes. He brings out whisks and spoons and Jeongguk kind of wonders what it would feel like if Seokjin smacked him with that wooden spoon-

“Do you understand now?” Seokjin asks, holding out a spoon for Jeongguk.

“Yup!”

Jeongguk sighs dreamily, leaning all of his weight on his elbow as he stares at Seokjin’s ass. He has half a mind to take a picture to compare to Taehyung’s but he refrains. He doesn’t want to come off as a creep.

Instead, Jeongguk watches until Seokjin bends over to help another student and turns back to his ice cream. There’s an uncomfortable lapse of time wherein the ice cream is in the freezer and everyone has finished cleaning their stations, waiting for something to do. Seokjin is pulling his own ice cream out of the freezer up front, talking about something and Jeongguk isn’t paying attention.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

The girl from last week who’d done everything perfectly raises her hand and asks Seokjin about rues. What the fuck. Who the fuck asks about rues? But Seokjin’s eyes light up and he launches into an explanation and Jeongguk can’t stop staring at his lips, holy shit.

“I have a question,” Jeongguk says, as he’s uncovering his own ice cream.

“Yeah?”

“Is mine supposed to be blue?”

Jeongguk watches the life physically drain from Seokjin’s eyes.

In the third week they make pizza and Jeongguk is one of the only people who properly twirls his dough. He watches Seokjin, now having taken the front most station in the room, with intent and he’s determined to get this right. Seokjin says twirling the dough is the hardest part and Jeongguk takes great pride in watching the girl from the first week mess up.

It’s extra hot out today, humidity making it difficult to find the motive to do anything, and if it felt like the inside of an oven outside, then the kitchen space with fourteen tiny ovens was even worse. Jeongguk keeps wiping his forehead with the hem of his tank top. Even Seokjin ditched his apron, but he’s still wearing the hat.

“Good job.” Seokjin watches him twirl the dough. “Really good, it’s usually much harder to pick up.”

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says. He bites his lip to hide the grin, doesn’t want to reveal how much those words are getting to him.

“What’s your name?”

“Jeongguk. Jeon Jeongguk.”

“Try not to light anything on fire this time, yeah?”

Jeongguk grins over his shoulder. “Anything for you, boss man.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, doesn’t even bother correcting Jeongguk’s continuous inability to use his proper title. “Turn down the fucking oven.”

“But-!”

“I’m not! Explaining! It again!”

When Seokjin turns around, Jeongguk’s hands slip and the dough falls onto his face. He curses and Seokjin whips around, eyes wide in concern, only to deflate when he sees what’s conspired. Jeongguk blinks, dough in his hair and dripping down his shirt, and tries to ignore the snickering he hears from the other people in the class.

He expects Seokjin to roll his eyes, to grab another pre-wrapped dough from the fridge up front and wordlessly give Jeongguk another chance. What he doesn’t expect is for Seokjin to come back, to help Jeongguk pick dough out of his hair, grab the giant globs from the floor, throw it all away and give Jeongguk a damp towel.

“You sliced the pepperoni very well,” Seokjin says.

“I- what?”

“Better get started again, and don’t turn up the oven to make up for lost time.”

This time, Jeongguk focuses harder on spinning the dough, layering toppings and sauce and cheese and throws it into the oven with vigor. Suck on that, everyone else in the class.

“Jeongguk.”

“Yes?” He hadn’t realized Seokjin was behind him, adjusting the heat on the oven again. His pizza will be done in a few minutes.

“Why is your sheet pan on the counter?”

“My what?”

Seokjin opens the oven and Jeongguk stares in horror. The pizza is melting through the rungs, cheese and dough dripping onto the bottom of the oven and burning there. Smoke billows out when Seokjin opens the oven, and together they use mitts and wooden spoons to get the mangled pizza out and onto the stove to cool. The pizza is covered with burned cheese and toppings, black and charred at the bottom.

“I hope you don’t have plans,” Seokjin says with a sigh. It’ll take hours to clean all this.

“Are you finally asking me out?”

“Not even close.”

“Let me get this straight.”

“But you’re bi.”

Hoseok slaps the back of his head. “You were asked to stay after class.”

“Yes.”

“By the object of every single one of your wet dreams for the past month.”

“Well-”

“Except for your gay awakening all thanks to Hyuna-”

“How does dreaming of her pegging me once make it my gay awakening-?”

“And you still didn’t get fucked? Or suck his dick?” Hoseok shoves a handful of fries in his mouth as Jeongguk stares on in horror. He talks as he chews, “That’s like, half the good porn movies in existence. You cleaned a whole oven and didn’t once ask him to clean you. I raised you better than this.”

Jeongguk whines, dropping his head onto the table. “I know, okay? But he’s so beautiful every time I look at him I forget how to speak.”

“Jeongguk. How’d your parents get together?”

Confused, Jeongguk sits back in his chair and watches Hoseok eat a burger in three bites. He’s waiting for Taehyung and Jimin like a civilized person, dammit. “My mom asked my dad out. She thought he was really beautiful.”

“Sound familiar?”

“You don’t understand,” Jeongguk says. He rests his chin on his palms. “It’s been four weeks. We made pasta yesterday. Homemade pasta. I wore my ‘ask me out’ pants and Seokjin didn’t. He’s supposed to fall in love with me, give me his number, and cook for me forever. Hyung, I spent all of last night picking centerpieces for our wedding.”

Hoseok nods very seriously. “A completely normal thing to do, Jeonny. Why’d you stay late this week?”

“I asked about his worst student ever.”

“Yeah?”

“He looked at me for a solid five minutes and left. I couldn’t leave for another forty minutes I was mortified.”

“That’s a pretty big word,” a new voice says, Taehyung dropping into the seat next to Jeongguk. He steals a few of Hoseok’s fries. “Don’t hurt yourself with three syllables, Guk-ah.”

“Fuck off.”

Taehyung leans back. “I’ll tell Jimin not to buy you food.”

“Noo,” Jeongguk whines, leaning over to nuzzle Taehyung’s neck. “I’m dying, hyung. You’ll have to explain that to my parents. To Yeontan.”

“Damn, you right. Can’t break my son’s heart like that.”

Somehow, Taehyung had managed to adopt a dog and bring him home before Jimin, far more drunk but way more lucid than a tipsy Jeongguk, had found him. How Taehyung managed to appear sober enough to adopt an animal remains a mystery. They weren’t allowed pets in the apartment. Taehyung had known that. But he’d sent a picture of Yeontan to their landlord and received a text back saying nothing more than, understandable. Have a good day.

Now Jeongguk has to share his bed with not only Taehyung and Jimin when they felt like it, but also Yeontan and Hoseok whenever he got too drunk and forgot where the couch was. Which was far more often than one might think.

“I bring food!” Jimin places two full trays of burgers and fries on the table, handing Jeongguk a bottle of water. “Everyone praise me right now.”

“Thanks for the food, babe.”

“Disgusting. Everyone besides Taehyung thank me for this food right this minute.”

“Thank you, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok says. “You’ve done well, fuck, I’m so hungry.”

Jeongguk makes a noise of surprise. “You’re literally eating right now!”

Hoseok pokes his chest. “Did I fucking stutter?”

Around a mouthful of food, Taehyung tickles Jeongguk’s chin and asks, “How’s the plan with your future husband going?”

“It’s not, I don’t know what else to do to get his attention,” Jeongguk mutters, drowning a few fries in ketchup.

“What have you done so far?”

“Stare at his ass a lot, mostly.”

“Damn, I don’t know how he hasn’t proposed yet.”

“I know!”

Taehyung’s expression flattens. He shares a look with Hoseok before shaking his head, snatching Jimin’s soda and taking a long drink. Over his shoulder, Jeongguk watches him swipe through his pictures of Yeontan.

Conversation diverges to Jimin and Hoseok discussing teaching at a dance studio, whether Hoseok wants to open one after finishing grad school or if it’s just because it’s expected of him. Taehyung and Hoseok share their woes over schoolwork while Jimin, always top of his class because of course he is, offers advice. Jeongguk feels himself pout around his food, hates being the only undergrad left.

“Okay,” Jimin says, as they’re piling the trash on a tray. “As fun as it is to win a bet, you look sad.”

“I’m not sad I’m horny.”

“Never mind,” Jimin says. “I can’t do this. Tae, let’s go.”

Taehyung ruffles his hair and kisses the top of Jeongguk’s head before they go, but they wait outside the shop because it’s movie night and they wouldn’t leave Jeongguk alone. Hoseok finishes collecting the trash.

“You could always talk to him,” Hoseok says. “Hookups don’t happen without words.”

Jeongguk pouts, taking the tray to throw everything away, and he wraps himself around Hoseok’s back. “They do in porn.”

Hoseok trips him in the doorway.

“Jeongguk, is something at your station burning?”

“That’s just my desire for you.”

“Your bruschetta is on fire.”

“Fuck!”

Seokjin idly stirs at the ramen he’s got cooking, a pile of meat waiting and a bunch of veggies at the side to be added. He normally doesn’t cook this much, but he’s been distracted, and it doesn’t look like Namjoon or Yoongi were leaving anytime soon. Maybe because Yoongi lives here. The bastard.

“Hyung.” Namjoon picks a carrot to munch on. “Any reason why you’re stirring so aggressively?”

“Hm?” Seokjin blinks at the pot, where he’s accidentally broken a lot of the noodles. “Fuck. Damn it. Shit.”

“For someone who banned cursing in the kitchen, you curse in the kitchen a lot.”

“Exception to the fucking rule, my friend.”

Yoongi removes one of his headphones, frowning over his laptop. He must have shitty students in his class for the summer. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Seokjin asks, salting the meat and adjusting a pan over medium heat. He trusts Namjoon to stir the ramen so he can focus on the meat. “What about you? You haven’t been sleeping.”

“Because I’m having sex,” Yoongi says. There’s some rustling, and Seokjin imagines he’s looking over sheet music spread along the coffee table. “And my students suck. Do yours?”

Seokjin shrugs, flipping the meat with tongs. “Not much worse than usual, I think.”

“Usually you can’t shut up about your students.”

“I’m maturing.”

“Sure.”

Seokjin sticks his tongue out at the back of Yoongi’s head, plates the food on three plates and carries it. It takes a little coaxing and a few disgusting kisses from Namjoon to Yoongi’s neck to convince him to leave his work for a bit and eat. Seokjin puts music on the TV and sits, secure in the fact that he doesn’t have to wash the dishes tonight.

After a few minutes, Yoongi sets his scrutinizing gaze on Seokjin, poking around at his food. “Usually we know your favorite and least favorite students by name by now. Did you murder them?”

“Yeah,” Seokjin slurps his noodles. “Gonna need your help burying the bodies.”

“God dammit, not again.”

Namjoon dips his meat in the gochujang sauce. “Do you have any terrible students?”

Seokjin thinks of Jeon Jeongguk and he grimaces, immediately feeling guilty. Jeongguk clearly took great interest in cooking, seemed to really want to improve his skills, but he was lacking when it came to preparation and presentation. The other day in the sixth class, Seokjin had his class make bread, and Jeongguk’s entire face had fallen sullen when he brought his out and it deflated, unable to hold its own shape.

He was so eager to learn, watching Seokjin’s explanations raptly, but for all his joking and teasing and big words, Jeongguk has yet to successfully complete any of the dishes. And Seokjin was torn. Because on one hand, Jeongguk was fucking beautiful. On the other hand, if he couldn’t make a simple dish then Seokjin isn’t a good teacher.

“There’s this girl who gets everything perfect as soon as she tries.”

“Gross,” Yoongi says. He looks exhausted, beanie pulled over his limp hair, like he stayed up all night grading assignments again. “People like that are infuriating.”

Namjoon scowls. “Wow.”

“Except for you, babe.”

Seokjin sighs heavily. “Fine, I’ll tell you guys. You’ve twisted my arm enough.”

“What are you even talking about?” Yoongi asks, eyeing him warily.

Placing his hands on the table, Seokjin sits up straight. “Yes, there is a gorgeous boy in my class and yes I want to make him cry. What the fuck about it?”

“Oh, is that all?” Namjoon snorts. “You’ve hooked up with students before. What’s wrong with this one?”

“He can’t cook.”

Yoongi and Namjoon fall silent, staring at Seokjin with varying levels of concern and exasperation on Yoongi’s part. Seokjin doesn’t date people who can’t cook. Ever since college, when his first three boyfriends and girlfriend had relied on him to cook and expected it, used him for food because home cooked food was a commodity among college students, Seokjin had decided to limit his relationships to people who could cook as well as him or better.

It’s why he’s dated a few of his students in the past, the ones who were talented in the kitchen, whom Seokjin knew was skilled with their hands. Jeongguk was… beautiful. With his big eyes, soft features, the nose that sat a little too big on his face, he ignited this urge in Seokjin to either protect or squish.

But Jeongguk had burned at least two things each week

“Damn,” Namjoon says, shaking his head. “It’s always the good ones. What does he look like?”

“Remember when we got Yoongi to dress up as a kitten for Halloween?”

“Yeah.”

“Like that. But more of a bunny.”

“Oh, damn.”

“You don’t have to date him,” Yoongi says, snatching Namjoon’s phone from his hand so he can’t bring up the photos. Yoongi likes to claim he was drunk, but he was the one who’d spent hours meticulously drawing the whiskers on his cheeks before they all left for a party. “Just fuck him. Emotions are disgusting and unnecessary.”

Namjoon laughs around a mouthful of noodles, spraying broth on the tablecloth. “You didn’t sleep with me until you were sure you like liked me. Your words.”

“Don’t drag me into this.”

“You’re a part of this conversation!”

Yoongi turns away from his boyfriend, points a chopstick at Seokjin. “Do you want to fuck him?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I want to fight him.”

“You- what?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“I want to kick his ass.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin admits, holding his chin in his palms. “His eyes light up when he smiles and I catch him pretending to drum with the cooking chopsticks. His cheeks get all squishy when he smiles and it gives me this overwhelming urge to fight him.”

Scowling, Yoongi reaches over to take the yolk from Seokjin’s bowl. “I don’t think meeting a cute boy and wanting to beat him up are correlated.”

“Isn’t there a theory about that?” Namjoon asks. “Like. It’s why we squeeze our pets when playing or why we try to squish stuffed animals.”

Yoongi says, “Shouldn’t you know? You’re the psych major.”

“Don’t remind me of that.”

“Anyway,” Yoongi says, even though silence had fallen and there was no one to interrupt. “Are you going to pursue anything with this guy?”

Seokjin shrugs, poking at the last of his food. “I don’t know. He’s cute as fuck but he asked me how to peel a banana the other day and I wanted to hand over my degree.”

“Hyung,” Yoongi says, voice monotonous. “Maybe he was trying to offer you a blowjob.”

“Oh.” Seokjin leans back in his chair, thinks about Jeongguk launching into an explanation for how he’d read online that it was better to peel a banana from the bottom. How he’d asked for Seokjin to show him before Seokjin walked away to help a student with a real question. “Is that what the kids call it these days?”

“How the fuck do you still get laid?” Yoongi mutters.

“My sparkling personality and big dick.”

Namjoon chokes on his water.

In the seventh week they make cupcakes, and this time Seokjin makes the batter up front while everyone follows along. Jeongguk has claimed the front most station as his own, and he spends more time staring at Seokjin’s forearms as he mixes. He falls behind but catches up quickly. The only time he’s made cupcakes was for Taehyung’s birthday a couple years ago. He’d bought pre-made batter and burned all the cupcakes, over filling some and dripping batter all over the oven. Jimin had found him, walked backwards out the door, and came home an hour later with Taehyung on his heels, laughing.

Jeongguk will show them. He’ll make the best damn cupcakes and Taehyung and Jimin aren’t allowed to have any of them. He’ll eat them all. Unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake. And it will be awesome.

“Jeongguk.”

“Yeah?”

“You put the cupcakes in a cold oven.”

“Motherfucker!”

“What the fuck did I say about cursing in my goddam kitchen?”

“The cute students are allowed to?”

Seokjin’s expression is flat as he joins Jeongguk at his station to turn the oven on. He removes the baking tin and sighs again. He explains that Jeongguk overfilled some of them, and it will cause uneven baking and burning of the ones that are filled properly. Together they fill the tins properly, Seokjin saying the best way to do so is my using an ice cream scoop.

“That way, you fill the same amount for each,” Seokjin is saying. Jeongguk hooks his chin on Seokjin’s shoulder and notices the way he tenses. The oven beeps, and Jeongguk has to move away to let Seokjin pop the batter inside.

“Did you go to culinary school?” Jeongguk asks, leaning against the counter. Seokjin glances at his forearms.

Seokjin gathers the dirty dishes into the sink for Jeongguk to wash later. “I did. I went to a school in Los Angeles, actually.”

“You’ve been to LA?” Seokjin’s apron this week is blue with flowers on it, clashing slightly with his strong forearms, the width of his shoulders, and the curl of his hair that Jeongguk wants to hold onto while Seokjin has him bent over-

“Spent four years there,” Seokjin says, smiling.

“Fuck, I’m jealous. I’ve always wanted to go.” Jeongguk grins, tilts his head so his hair brushes his eyes. “Would you take me? Show me all your favorite spots?”

Seokjin laughs quietly, taps one finger beneath Jeongguk’s chin. “Can you give me a reason to?”

“I can give you a lot-”

“Chef Seokjin!” The girl who gets everything perfect raises her hand. This isn’t school, why is she raising her hand? Seokjin drops his hand and Jeongguk scowls. “Can you check my julienne?”

Jeongguk hates julienne. She keeps interrupting him and Seokjin looks so excited to check the girl’s progress. He doesn’t even let Jeongguk suck his dick before walking away. How inconsiderate.

Later, after most of the students have cleaned up and left, Jeongguk is still washing his dishes. His cupcakes still need a few minutes in the oven, and he’s playing with the soapy bubbles in the sink because he’s run out of dishes. Seokjin hasn’t come back over, cleaning up and putting things away up front.

“Seokjin-ssi?”

“Yeah?”

“What was the first thing you ever cooked?”

Seokjin grins, wrapping ingredients with plastic wrap and flipping through a cookbook to pick next week’s dish. “I made a cake for my mom’s birthday. I was seven. Burned it so badly I set off all the smoke alarms in our building and she still tasted it. It was awful but she told me she loved it, and I’ve been cooking since then.”

“Oh. Nice.”

“Has anything you cooked turned out right?” Seokjin asks.

The timer goes off and Jeongguk is glad. He knows he’s a shit cook, doesn’t want to let the guy he’s trying to marry know that the only thing he can cook is cereal and he can’t even make it with milk. “One time I made a grilled cheese and it was only a little burned.”

“That’s something,” Seokjin says, and when Jeongguk looks up from taking his cupcakes out of the oven, he’s smiling. “Even the smallest success is a victory, Jeongguk. Try to make it again and I guarantee it’ll turn out better.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk says quietly. Something squeezes his heart and he thinks if Seokjin keeps talking like this his dick will need a squeeze, too. “I- thanks.”

“How did your cupcakes turn out?”

Jeongguk tests one with a toothpick and feels himself grin when it comes out clean. When he wrestles one out of the tin, it sits perfectly on the counter. “They’re good, I think. They came out good!”

Seokjin tries one and Jeongguk does, too. “They’re perfect, Jeongguk.”

“Is it weird for me to say my dick felt that?”

To his surprise, Seokjin laughs. He grabs a paper plate and places all the cupcakes on it. He doesn’t say what they’re both thinking, that the cupcakes only worked because Seokjin fully demonstrated how to make them, or that he looked over Jeongguk’s shoulder as he baked to keep him on track. “Go home, Jeongguk. I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“See you next week!”

When he gets back to the apartment, Taehyung is trying to suffocate Jimin with a pillow. Upon further investigation, Taehyung is actually kissing Jimin into the cushions, which Jeongguk thinks is worse. He tries to sneak past but Taehyung has a seventh sense when it comes to food. His sixth sense is that he knows when Jimin is sad and needs cuddles. It’s uncanny, really.

“I smell food,” Taehyung says, speaking before he’s even broken the kiss. He sniffs twice. “Cupcakes. I want one.”

“No.”

“What the fuck, I raised you.”

“You can’t have them,” Jeongguk sings, dancing out of reach. “They’re for my dick.”

Jimin leans up on his elbows, giving Jeongguk an odd look. Yeontan jumps onto his chest, and Taehyung coos. “I hate that this doesn’t surprise me.”

“I’m going to jerk off and eat these and imagine it is Seokjin feeding them to me.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Jimin says dryly.

Jeongguk takes a giant bite out of one of the cupcakes. “Don’t need me for a few hours.”

He barely gets his hands down his pants before Taehyung barges in, grabs three cupcakes, and joins Jeongguk under the covers. Jimin follows with Yeontan on his shoulders, feeding Yeontan tiny bites of cupcake while Taehyung screams that the cake might be bad for him. Jeongguk gives up.

In the eighth week, Taehyung and Jimin have taken Jeongguk’s station. He pauses in the doorway, the girl with her perfect julienne sending him a scowl when he accidentally blocks her path, but-

“What the fuck.” Jeongguk hisses, standing in front of the station.

Jimin has his hand down the back of Taehyung’s pants, unashamedly. “Hello, child.”

“First of all, don’t,” Jeongguk says. “Second of all, how? Taehyung, you drove away after dropping me off. Jimin, you weren’t even in the car!”

Taehyung looks unbearably smug, wearing oven mitts three sizes too big for his hands. They flop over. “You spent half an hour in the lobby telling yourself today is the day you’ll suck Seokjin’s dick. I got home, convinced Jimin to come with me, and got back here before you even finished jerking it in the bathroom.”

“I didn’t-!” Jeongguk looks around desperately, hoping that no one was close enough to hear anything. He leans closer, whispers, “I don’t jerk off before this class. Only after.”

Jimin snaps his fingers. “That’s why you’ve been crying when you come lately? Because you can’t fucking confess?”

“Being emotional is not a bad thing, hyung.”

“True,” Taehyung says. “Jimin cried watching Coco last night.”

“It’s a heartwarming family tale!”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk grabs one of the oven mitts, whacks Taehyung’s chest with it. “Don’t say a word. Don’t ruin this for me or neither of you can be best man at our wedding.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “If your wedding cake isn’t chocolate you can keep it.”

Scoffing, Jeongguk looks around to see the only station available is one near the back. He won’t have a good view of Seokjin’s chest from back there. “Our cake is going to be in the shape of a dick, made out of cupcakes so he can shove it in my face easier.”

“That’s my guy,” Taehyung grins, holding out his hand for a high-five.

Jeongguk drops his bag at the station and groans when he realizes the guy in front of him is ridiculously tall. Students aren’t supposed to share stations but that hasn’t stopped Taehyung and Jimin, ripping heads of lettuce and trying to shove garlic up each other’s noses. Seokjin looks unsurprised but very disappointed when he walks in and sees them and- Jeongguk might be projecting, or hoping too much, but he thinks that Seokjin spends an extra minute scanning the students, that his shoulders relax when he notices Jeongguk in the back.

“Today we’re making salad and dressing. It sounds easy, but there are a lot of little aspects that can make it difficult. Let’s start with trimming the vegetables.”

Jeongguk can’t see very well from his spot in the back, and he’s mortified to see Jimin and Taehyung constantly raising their hands to ask questions. Taehyung asks if he can lick this salad dressing from Jimin’s chest and Jeongguk watches Seokjin begin to regret all of his life choices that led to this moment.

“Slice your artichokes a little thinner,” is what Seokjin first says when he makes his rounds and finally reaches Jeongguk. “Have you whisked the liquids?”

Jeongguk stares at his empty bowl. “Yes.”

Seokjin smiles, and helps to pour out the oils and other liquids for the dressing. He explains each, and Jeongguk wonders how those long, endearingly crooked fingers would feel inside of him.

“Hey, Jeongguk-ah. Did you hear about the Italian chef?”

Jeongguk doesn’t even know where Italy is. “No?”

“He pasta way.”

First, he doesn’t get it, slicing tomatoes and avocados for the final salad. When he does, he stops, looks up to Seokjin- who’s grinning at him and barely able to hold back his laughter. Jeongguk sighs.

“If I say good one, will that make you like me?”

“Don’t give me that look. Don’t be a mad cucumber in a pickle.”

“Go away,” Jeongguk groans, pushing lightly at Seokjin’s back. “There are other students who’s days you can ruin.”

When Seokjin walks away, Jeongguk wants to pull him back again, but scowls when he walks to talk to julienne girl. Then, they’re grilling chicken for the salad, and Jeongguk watches Seokjin explain for the third time why Taehyung can’t flip the chicken too quickly.

Jeongguk’s salad looks good. It might not look the best, but his dressing is creamy and the lettuce is fresh, tomatoes, cucumbers, avocados, onions, and carrots coloring the greens. He’ll dress the salad when the chicken is done; Seokjin says that’s the most important part.

“Excuse me, chef sir dude.”

“What, Taehyung?”

“Will we be using chocolate sauce with dessert? It looks really pretty running between Jimin’s abs-”

“Tae!”

“We’re not making dessert today,” Seokjin says, helping another of the boys to whisk his dressing.

Taehyung looks absolutely scandalized. “What? Why would anyone sign up for a cooking class if there’s no dessert?”

Seokjin pauses and looks over his shoulder. “Did you even sign up? I never saw your name on the roster.”

“Uh.” Taehyung glances at Jimin, and Jeongguk uses all of the telekinetic powers he wished he had as a kid to ensure that Taehyung doesn’t so much as breathe in his direction. He grabs a handful of lettuce and throws it on the ground. “Sorry, that was the ghost.”

Jimin snickers, along with a few other students scattered around the room. Seokjin rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, and Jeongguk is going to kill Taehyung when they get home. He’s making the love of Jeongguk’s life laugh and Jeongguk’s stuck in the back of the room, finishing up a salad he’ll probably eat while crying over anime tonight, chopping chicken that’s too hot because he just took it off the grill and it’s a little burned, knife in hand, slicing into strips until he feels a sharp pain on his left thumb.

“Oh,” Jeongguk whispers, embarrassed to see a thin strip of blood blooming from the cut on his thumb. “Shit.”

The blood pools faster, showing through the paper towel that Jeongguk grabs to staunch the flow. He curses again.

“Jeongguk?” There’s suddenly a hand on his, and Jeongguk blinks to see Seokjin invading his space, pulling back the paper towel to check the wound. “Yeah, you cut yourself good.”

“The chicken will get cold,” Jeongguk mutters, because he’s embarrassed and stupid and no one’s gotten hurt in the kitchen before right now.

“It will,” Seokjin says, applying pressure. “It’s okay.”

“We’re holding hands.”

There’s a small smile on Seokjin’s face, and Jeongguk realizes that Seokjin is taller, his hands warm and solid around Jeongguk’s. “Run it under water. I’ll get you a bandage.”

Jeongguk can see Taehyung and Jimin watching with concern from the front of the classroom. The other students don’t spare a glance and he’ll remember this when they’re begging during MAMA season. Shaking his head, Jeongguk runs his finger under the water, watches the water turn pink until Seokjin comes back and gently takes Jeongguk’s hand, pats it dry.

“The only bandage I could find is Powerpuff Girls.”

“That’s okay, those girls are icons.”

“They are.” Seokjin’s gentle smile is so pretty. His lips are full and soft looking, to the point where Jeongguk’s getting distracted thinking about everything Seokjin could do to him and feeling guilty about it because he’s about to get hard with a Powerpuff Girls bandage on his thumb. “Do you need to sit down?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “I’m not a wimp, I’m fine.”

“Blood freaks out a lot of people, Jeongguk. It’s nothing to be upset about.”

“Does blood freak you out?” Jeongguk asks quietly. He tilts his head up, and Seokjin is closer than he thought, he’d just have to tilt his head and they’d touch, move his chin up and they’d kiss.

“I nearly lost my thumb in the first kitchen I worked in, so yeah.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk leans against the counter and away from the intoxicating bubble of Seokjin’s personal space. Seokjin is cleaning the knife Jeongguk had cut himself with, and his chicken looks so pathetic and sad sitting on the cutting board, cooling quickly.

“I fucked up again,” Jeongguk sighs.

“Your chicken is sliced a little unevenly, but everything else looks pretty good.”

“No, I- Seokjin, that’s not-”

“Here,” Seokjin places the knife in Jeongguk’s hand. He thinks nothing of it, until Seokjin is wrapping his arms around Jeongguk’s shoulders, holding the chicken steady in one hand and the knife in the other. “It’s easier like this.”

And Jeongguk- he almost fucking melts. Seokjin’s arms are so strong, and Jeongguk feels so small nestled in his hold. He’s talking, explaining different ways to chop chicken, the differences and similarities between slicing chicken, steak, or serving fish but Jeongguk can’t even focus on it. Can’t focus because Seokjin’s hand is so warm, envelops his so nicely, his chest to Jeongguk’s back.

Jeongguk can see Taehyung taking pictures from the front of the room. Class is almost over but Jeongguk never wants this moment to end.

“And then you use the knife to carry the chicken onto the salad. Drizzle your dressing, and you’re done,” Seokjin says, following through the movements.

He really doesn’t know what to say, especially when Seokjin takes a few steps back and finishes dressing the salad and Jeongguk suddenly feels cold. “T-Try it with me?”

“It’s yours, Jeongguk. I have the one I made.”

“Right.”

Jeongguk cleans up in silence, a bit dazed, and not from the slight loss of blood. Seokjin is speaking to another student by the time Jeongguk finishes packing his food, waving to Jeongguk as he leaves.

He finds Taehyung and Jimin in the lobby of the building, waiting with car keys and an ice cream cone that Jeongguk has no idea how they found. “Dude,” Taehyung says.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, and it sounds like a sigh. “I know.”

“Okay, so, not to alarm you, or anything. But I’ve been sleeping with your best friends.”

“What the fuck?” Jeongguk lifts his head where Hoseok has been playing with his hair, cuddled up on bed because they were having a movie night. “So no one can snuggle me anymore? You’re going to leave me out on the streets?”

Taehyung props his chin on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “I’m literally spooning you right now, Jeon. What the heck?”

“Heck?” Hoseok repeats; braiding Jeongguk’s hair and then letting it go.

“I don’t want to curse in front of the baby.”

“The baby.”

“Me,” Jeongguk says, pulling Taehyung’s arms tighter around him. “I’m the baby.”

Hoseok sighs, but he doesn’t stop playing with Jeongguk’s hair and he appreciates that. If he’s going to lose Hoseok to Jimin and Taehyung’s charms he wants to have his hair pet while it’s happening. Taehyung rubs his nose against the back of Jeongguk’s neck and he has a sinking feeling that Taehyung’s wiping his nose on him.

“Hoseok hyung, I can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“I’m right here, Guk-ah. I’ll be here as often as before, just probably sucking your roommates off a lot more.”

“Gross,” Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want to know, but how did this tragedy happen?”

From the kitchen, they can hear Jimin curse at something, and Jeongguk wonders if dinner is ruined. Hoseok shrugs, a tiny smile on his face. “We all went to karaoke a few weeks ago, more than a little drunk. Taehyung sucked me off while I sang to Big Bang and Jimin wanted to afterwards. We came back here and fucked on the couch.”

“I sit on that couch!”

Taehyung kisses the back of his neck. “Hope you’ve enjoyed our many bodily fluids. Especially with Jimin’s kinks-”

“Please stop talking.”

Hoseok pats the top of Jeongguk’s head. “We haven’t fucked on your bed, if that helps.”

“It really doesn’t,” Jeongguk says, a little morosely. He can’t even get Seokjin to propose marriage but now his best friends, self-proclaimed soulmates since birth, have a second boyfriend and Jeongguk’s in his worst dry spell to date. “So, you guys are all, like, together now?”

“Uh,” Taehyung rolls onto his back, shouts, “Jimin!”

Jimin shouts back, “Yeah?”

“Want to be my boyfriend?”

“Sure!”

“One down.” Taehyung holds his body over Jeongguk’s. “We’re dating now, hyung.”

Hoseok taps his finger beneath Taehyung’s chin. “Are we?”

“Yup. So I expect a hundred kisses before Jeongguk falls asleep.”

“This is relationship elitism and I will not stand for it,” Jeongguk says, putting his hand over Hoseok’s mouth to get him to stop kissing Taehyung. He pouts as he speaks, “It was bad enough walking in on Jimin and Taehyung literally everywhere in the apartment.”

Hoseok says, “We’ll go to my place.”

“Wait, that’s worse,” Jeongguk says, aggressively trying to snuggle deeper in Taehyung’s embrace. “I’ll be alone.”

“Oh, please,” Taehyung scoffs. “Like you’d let us leave you alone.”

“True.”

“Speaking of being alone.” Jimin shoulders his way into the room, precariously balancing four bowls of reheated noodles. “Have you even gotten Seokjin’s number yet?”

Jeongguk has not, but he doesn’t answer. He thinks Jimin knows, though, because when he purses his lips and tries to hide in the duvet, Jimin is giving him a disappointed look that rivals the one Taehyung gives Yeontan when the dog poops outside his door again.

It’s not entirely Jeongguk’s fault. He’s been trying to work up the courage to ask for Seokjin’s number, but Seokjin is so pretty, and he’s so good at cooking, and he’s so nice. Jeongguk isn’t even worried that Seokjin will laugh at him and turn him down harshly, no he’s worried that Seokjin will smile, pat the top of his head, and turn him down with more gentle kindness than Jeongguk even deserves. There’s only two weeks left in the cooking class, and Jeongguk’s feeling further away from his goal of sucking Seokjin’s dick than he did at the beginning.

“Oh my God,” Jimin says, handing Jeongguk a bowl of food. Jeongguk has to sit up to eat but Taehyung stays wrapped around him, so he doesn’t mind. “I know that look. That’s the look Taehyung gives food. You like him, oh my God. You don’t only want to suck his dick, you want to hold his hand while you do it!”

“What?” Jeongguk chokes on a mouthful of noodles, coughing for an embarrassingly long time before he can settle, cheeks a bright red. He shakes his head, furiously, hoping Jimin will just forget about it, but Jimin is giggling, near cackling like he’s just figured out a big secret. “I don’t. I don’t! I don’t like him; it’s purely physical. I don’t! Jimin- stop laughing!”

Jimin wheezes, “I’m sorry, Guk. I saw it with my own two eyes, you’re gone for him and I bet you don’t even know his last name.”

It’s on the fucking business card Seokjin handed out on the first day of classes, that Jeongguk had put under his pillow for luck and hasn’t looked at since. “Shut up. I hate you; I hate all of you. I’m moving out.”

“Good luck finding someone to put up with you,” Taehyung says, words mean while he presses soft kisses to Jeongguk’s neck. “You should have seen it, hyung. Jeongguk had these big puppy dog eyes for the whole lesson, like Seokjin hung the fucking stars in the sky.”

“Oh?” Hoseok giggles and Jeongguk hates when they do this, gang up on him. Why do people have to have feelings?

“Yeah,” Jimin continues. “Then Jeongguk cut himself, made the tiniest noise ever- hell, Tae and I didn’t even hear it- and Seokjin just dropped fucking everything to get to him.”

“Got him a bandage and helped with his food,” Taehyung continues, his voice taking on that dreamy quality.

“I think Jeongguk actually swooned-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jeongguk snaps, but he feels no guilt because Taehyung and Jimin are still laughing at his misfortune and pain. “I didn’t swoon, I don’t like him, end of story.”

Jimin speaks around his chopsticks, “You’ve only got two weeks left, dude. Better make a move if you want that dick anywhere near your mouth.”

“Thank you for the advice.”

“Is he your hyung?” Taehyung asks, leaning around Jeongguk’s shoulders to let Hoseok feed him.

“I- I don’t know?” Jeongguk admits, to a cacophony of noise from his friends. They’re all talking, telling asking how Jeongguk can go and fall in love when he doesn’t even know his husband’s age. What if he’s eighty, Taehyung asks. Well, Jeongguk will have to get accustomed to riding, then. “Listen! I think he’s older? He’s already graduated culinary school so unless he’s a fucking prodigy, he’s probably older.”

Jimin nods very seriously. “Cool, you can call him daddy.”

Jeongguk’s face feels as if it’s on fire. “I don’t want to!”

“Do you have a daddy kink, hyung?” Taehyung asks, resting his chin on Jeongguk’s shoulder to talk to Hoseok. Jeongguk really wishes the demon under his bed would eat him alive right now. “Because Jimin and I tried that once and no, thank you.”

“Can you not reveal everything about our sex lives?” Jimin says, frowning.

“He needs to know! He’s a part of it now,” Taehyung insists.

“This relationship is a fucking mess,” Hoseok mutters.

Taehyung pokes his finger at Hoseok’s chest. “No take backs.”

“We do need to know your limits, though,” Jimin says. “We can get pretty mean, especially Tae, when he’s in a mood.”

“You’re a dom?” Jeongguk asks, thinks he gets away with it when he whispers the question in the midst of their dispute, but.

Taehyung gives him an odd look. “I’ve literally had my fist up your ass and you’re asking me this now?”

“Tae!”

“Is that the video you won’t let me watch-?”

“Wait, wait, wait-” Hoseok leans forward with interest. “You’re into fisting?”

“Gross!” Jeongguk tries to escape, but Taehyung just holds him tighter, pulling him into the mess on the bed. “Let me out before you get weird!”

But his prayers remain unanswered, and before he can blink he’s being smothered in blankets by all three of them for the movie they’d planned to watch earlier. It’s a stupid romcom that Jeongguk loves, and he appreciates that they’d remembered.

Later, after Jeongguk has forgiven his friends for being terrible, he sits against the headboard with Hoseok while Taehyung and Jimin threaten each other’s lives over Mario Kart.

“You could always try jokes,” Hoseok says, his arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders. “That’s how my old college roommate got together with his boyfriend. Some shitty music jokes that made him laugh, and I think they’re officially dating now.”

Taehyung snorts. “Just tell him you want his special sauce.”

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees with a snicker. “Want his special sauce all over your mouth.”

Hoseok throws a pillow at the back of their heads. “Just make sure you’re comfortable, Jeongguk. If that means sucking his dick in the walk-in fridge, so be it.”

In the ninth week Jeongguk walks into class with newfound determination and stops in the doorway. Seokjin is wearing pink and Jeongguk really really likes the way he looks in pink.

“Hey, Jeongguk-ah.” Seokjin looks up from his cookbook.

“Hey.” Jeongguk leans onto the front table, sticks his ass out a bit and ignores the look one of the girls gives him. He drags his finger slowly over the book. He bites his lip, looking coyly up at Seokjin through the fringe of his bangs. “What’s on the menu today?”

“We’re making Panini’s.”

“Sexy.”

Seokjin gives him an odd look. “Do sandwiches turn you on?”

“Only the ones with a lot of thick meat.”

“I-”

“Excuse me, teacher?” The julienne girl shoves her way to the desk, asking Seokjin to look at something in a book she was holding. Jeongguk glares at the back of her head as he retreats to his own station. Who brings their own books and asks questions? That’s what Google was for.

This week, Seokjin lets them choose what kind of sandwiches to make and somehow, it’s easy enough for Jeongguk. He piles chicken and spices and sauces and cheese, building the sandwich as Seokjin leans on his counters and watches him.

And Jeongguk- he doesn’t want to project, or anything but Seokjin keeps staring at his arms as he chops the chicken and layers onions. Seokjin leans closer to inspect everything and he glances down at Jeongguk’s lips as they’re speaking. Seokjin is taller, just enough that if Jeongguk wanted, he could lean perfectly against Seokjin’s chest, feel covered and small while Seokjin fucks him hard-

“Hey, JK? Anyone home in there?” Seokjin knocks his knuckles against Jeongguk’s temple, grinning in a way that worries Jeongguk. There is absolutely no way Jeongguk’s as subtle as he thinks he is.

“What do you call cheese that’s sad?” Jeongguk blurts, because Seokjin is standing too close and he’s still got his fingers brushing Jeongguk’s forehead.

“Um.” Seokjin looks amused, leaning back to rest his weight against the stove. “What?”

“Blue cheese.”

“Wow.” He claps slowly, and Jeongguk swears he sees julienne girl rolling her eyes from where she’s perfectly pressing her Panini. “Impressive, but I’ll do you one better. Who’s a dessert’s favorite actor? Robert Brownie, Jr.”

Jeongguk snorts, and feels as the tension breaks between them as they both laugh. Jeongguk likes this, because even though he wants nothing more than to drop to his knees, Seokjin is a lot less intimidating when they’re sharing jokes.

“When do you go at red and stop at green?” Jeongguk asks, slicing a tomato. He sees Seokjin grimace at his form, and consciously fits the knife in his hand differently. “When you’re eating a watermelon.”

“What do you call blueberries playing the guitar? A jam session.”

Jeongguk slices his bread, his grin big and kinda dopey. “Why didn’t the sesame seed leave the casino? He was on a roll.”

“Did you hear about the carrot detective? He got to the root of every case.”

“What do you get when you cross an apple with a shellfish? A crab apple-!”

“Can you guys shut up?” One of the boys in the back of the class looks annoyed, glaring at Jeongguk and Seokjin where they’re giggling to each other over Jeongguk’s sandwich. He hasn’t even plugged in his Panini press, yet; too distracted trying to make Seokjin laugh, but now- he sobers immediately, apologizing to the boy and turning back to his food without another word.

He assumes Seokjin walks away to help other students, so a minute later when Jeongguk feels a hand on his shoulder, he looks up and meets Seokjin’s soft gaze. “You know the best thing about food jokes, Jeongguk-ah?”

“What?”

“They’re zero calories.”

“That wasn’t even good.”

“But you’re laughing.”

“Pity,” Jeongguk calls back, as Seokjin walks away with a wave over his shoulder. “It’s a pity laugh!”

Jeongguk remembers to plug in his Panini press and has to wait for it to warm up. He watches Seokjin help other students slice their ingredients and maneuver the presses and he does not get distracted by Seokjin’s arms and ass.

Only a little bit.

Seokjin makes his way back to the front of the room, as Jeongguk is getting ready to press his sandwiches. He doesn’t want to jinx it, but this looks a hell of a lot better than his grilled cheese.

“Need help?” Seokjin asks, hooking his chin on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

Jeongguk jumps and feels his cheeks catch on fire. Terrible. 0 out of 10. He’s returning his cheeks.

“I never need help with anything ever,” Jeongguk replies.

“Is that why your Panini press is smoking?”

Jeongguk whips around and- it’s fine. Everything’s fine and absolutely nothing is on fire. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious and you know it. Have you ever used a Panini press before?”

“Until today I thought chefs squeezed Panini’s with their hands.”

With a sigh, Seokjin walks him through the settings on the machine, reaches around Jeongguk’s body instead of moving. He helps Jeongguk move the sandwich onto the press, curls his hands over Jeongguk’s on the handle.

“Make sure the lid is centered,” Seokjin says quietly, lips close to Jeongguk’s ear. His ear is sweating. Can ears sweat? Is Seokjin going to taste his ear sweat? “And then- push.”

Seokjin’s arms tighten around him as they close the press and he lets out a noise that’s not quite a grunt, but it’s a quiet exhale in Jeongguk’s ear and- holy shit he might be hard.

“See?” Seokjin asks, as he steps back. “It’s not hard.”

Jeongguk can’t quiet agree, but he nods his head and he panics, blurting, “Nosey peppers get jalapeño business.”

“Good one,” Seokjin snorts, squeezing Jeongguk’s shoulder. “I haven’t heard that one. Don’t walk away from that, it’ll burn.”

“Seokjin, I-”

They both pause, staring at each other over Jeongguk’s oven. He thinks Seokjin might know, or he’s watched too much porn and he’s looking too deeply into Seokjin’s help. But then Seokjin grins, winks, and walks away to help a student who’d accidentally set their Panini on fire.

For once it’s not Jeongguk wielding the fire extinguisher, and he can’t help but grin as he opens the press to his own perfect sandwich, slams dunk the Panini onto the floor in his excitement, sheepishly smiling at Seokjin where he glares across the room.

In the final week, Jeongguk spends twenty minutes in the bathroom psyching himself up before he walks into the classroom, stands in front of Seokjin, interrupts his phone call to say, “You’re hot.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin says, then into his phone. “No, Yoongi I don’t know who might’ve sniffed your underwear. Have you asked your boyfriend?”

Jeongguk pouts, kicks lightly at the leg of Seokjin’s desk. “Say I’m hot, too.”

“I gotta go, Yoongi. No, I won’t buy you new underwear.” Seokjin hangs up his phone, folds his hands beneath his chin. His eyes glint teasingly. “Want to hear that you’re hot, Jeongguk-ah?”

And Jeongguk falters a little, swallowing thickly and freezing beneath Seokjin’s stare. “Y-Yes?”

“What if I think you’re pretty?”

“T-That’s good, too.”

“Yeah?”

Jeongguk whirls on his heel as soon as other students start to show up, cheeks a furious red. “Oh my God,” he whispers to himself. He absolutely does not look in Seokjin’s direction. “Oh my God?”

“Okay!” Seokjin claps his hands together as everyone gets to their stations. He’s stopped with the aprons and tall chef hats and Jeongguk kind of misses them. “Congrats to everyone for making it to the end! I’ve noticed a lot of improvement in everyone’s skills, and this week will serve as a bit of an assessment. You won’t be graded officially, but I want you to see that you’ve gained valuable cooking skills. Today, please remake one of the dishes we’ve cooked over the past ten weeks. Everything you need is at your stations and the pantry. Let’s get started!”

Jeongguk watches everyone else move to the pantry to gather ingredients, and he frowns. Half of the dishes he burned. Some of them were underdone. He threw his Panini on the ground in a botched Touchdown celebration, (Taehyung was still laughing at that, had choked on Hoseok’s dick laughing at the memory. Jeongguk hates that he knows that.)

“What are you going to make?” Seokjin leans his elbows on Jeongguk’s counter, an eyebrow raised. Jeongguk shrugs. “What about your cupcakes? Those were really good, Jeongguk.”

“Okay, you can’t help.”

“What?” Seokjin asks, laughing a little.

“I’m doing it all on my own this time,” Jeongguk continues. “You just watch me.”

“Gonna put on a show for me?”

“Jesus, fuck-”

“Actually, it’s Seokjin.”

“Literally shut up.”

Jeongguk shoos him away and grabs the recipe book, flipping through. Last time he’d made really simple vanilla cupcakes, but this time he chooses the chocolate peanut butter cupcakes and a chocolate frosting. It looks like most people in the class had chosen to make desserts, except for julienne girl who looked to be making an elaborate stir-fry with a lot of julienne cut veggies. Or, Jeongguk assumes they’re julienne. He still doesn’t know what the fuck that looks like.

Jeongguk still doesn’t know how to use most of the tools in the kitchen but for now, he pretends that he does. He tries to remember all of the tips and tricks that Seokjin had told him over the weeks, but his brain honestly turns to mush because every time he looks up, Seokjin is staring at him with an expression that Jeongguk can’t read, something heavy.

With his cupcakes in the oven, Jeongguk gets started on the frosting. In the pantry, he grabs powdered sugar and Seokjin takes it from him, puts it back, and grabs another bag.

“Cornstarch,” Seokjin explains.

“Gesundheit.”

He can feel Seokjin’s eyes on him as he cooks, as he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and rolls up his sleeves to mix his icing. Maybe he’s milking it, but it’s the last week and Jeongguk hasn’t forgotten his goal.

Jeongguk’s cupcakes come out of the oven and they’re beautiful. He’s a little scared to taste them. In his experience, if his food looks good, it tastes like shit and vice versa.

“Here,” Seokjin drops something over his shoulder, making Jeongguk jump. “Use a piping bag when you frost them.”

“This looks like an oversized condom.”

“What the fuck.”

“Never mind.”

Jeongguk has never, in his entire life, used a piping bag. He quickly Googles a tutorial while Seokjin’s back is turned. He gets chocolate on his cheeks and above his eyebrow as he frosts each of his cupcakes, getting lost in it as the hour finishes and students file out of the room, thanking Seokjin or asking where to sign up for more of his classes until the room is empty and Jeongguk is finally done, wiping his brow and tossing his tools in the sink.

The cupcakes look good, even if they’re not the most fancy cakes ever seen. Jeongguk is proud, and he feels himself blush as Seokjin comes over to see.

“They look really nice,” Seokjin says. He picks two up, hands one to Jeongguk, and toasts the cakes together before they try. “Delicious, Jeongguk. If we were actually grading, you’d pass. Absolutely.”

“Then I don’t have to suck your dick to pass?” Jeongguk asks around a mouthful of cake, realizes what he said, and immediately stops chewing, stares at the floor, and doesn’t breathe.

“Well,” Seokjin says slowly. “There’s always extra credit.”

“Shut up,” Jeongguk whines, shoves another bite of cupcake in his mouth.

Seokjin curls two fingers beneath Jeongguk’s chin, tilts his head up until Jeongguk has no choice but to look at him. His expression is gentle, but there’s something intense burning in his eyes, something that has Jeongguk’s stomach twisting.

He swipes a thumb over the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth, cleans the frosting there. “Messy boy,” Seokjin whispers and holy shit Jeongguk’s going to pass out.

“C-Can-” Seokjin doesn’t move his hand, gently cupping Jeongguk’s jaw and it’s really distracting. Everything about Seokjin is distracting. “Can you- Can-”

“Can I what, Jeongguk-ah?”

“Kiss me?” Jeongguk squeaks, embarrassedly because maybe he’d been reading all of this wrong. Maybe it was all in his head and Seokjin couldn’t wait for the day to end so he’d never have to deal with Jeongguk again-

“Hm, you want a kiss?” Seokjin’s lips twitch, not quite a smile, as Jeongguk’s mind short circuits. “Ask nicely.”

“Please,” Jeongguk breathes, licks his dry lips. “Please?”

In the end, he’s not sure who moves first. Jeongguk fists the front of Seokjin’s shirt but Seokjin curls a hand into his hair and then they’re finally, finally kissing, mouths moving with abandon. Jeongguk whimpers and doesn’t have any time to be embarrassed about it, Seokjin swallowing the noise, licking into his mouth, stealing Jeongguk’s breath away. He tastes like chocolate and spices and Jeongguk wants more.

Jeongguk pulls and Seokjin pushes and Jeongguk breaks the kiss with a gasp when his back hits the counter. He barely has time to breathe before Seokjin is kissing him again, dropping his hands to Jeongguk’s waist to squeeze, to hold him close, to kiss him harder.

Seokjin crowds him against the counter, Jeongguk clutching the back of his shirt. He feels dizzy, overwhelmed with everything and he can’t feel his toes.

When Jeongguk breaks away to breathe, Seokjin trails his lips down Jeongguk’s neck, bites tenderly until he finds a spot that draws a heady noise from Jeongguk. Seokjin’s hands squeeze his hips again, nibbles at the skin as Jeongguk lets his head fall back.

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses. “Shit, Jeongguk, can I touch you?”

“Please-”

“Tell me to stop.”

But Jeongguk doesn’t ever want him to stop. Seokjin gently traces his fingers below the hem of Jeongguk’s shirt, strokes the warm, flushed skin before he’s unbuttoning Jeongguk’s jeans, pressing another kiss to his mouth. It distracts Jeongguk enough that he gasps out a moan when Seokjin strokes him over his boxers. His thighs shake a little at the touch, and he throws his arms around Seokjin’s shoulders to hold on tight, to ground himself as Seokjin starts stroking his cock with purpose.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk gasps, hides his face in Seokjin’s neck. He’s half-hard already, getting harder with every squeeze of Seokjin’s hand. He makes these little noises, quiet gasps that aren’t quite moans, breathing them against the skin of Seokjin’s neck.

Seokjin presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Let me hear you, baby.”

With that, Seokjin slips his hand inside Jeongguk’s boxers and takes his hard, flushed cock in hand, jerking him slowly.

“Hn,” Jeongguk whines, spreads his legs as far as he can in the jeans. Seokjin twists his wrist, holds his palm over the tip and rubs, making Jeongguk’s hips kick and punching a moan from his chest. “Oh, oh, feels- shit- so good, mn-”

“Look at you,” Seokjin is whispering. He has a hand on Jeongguk’s thigh and he’s dizzy, it’s so big, gripping his thigh tightly. “Look so pretty, honey. Sound so nice.”

“Am I-” Jeongguk cries out as Seokjin plays with the tip again, legs quivering. “Am I doing good?”

“So good, Jeongguk,” Seokjin kisses his head again. “Doing so well for me.”

Jeongguk shivers, whimpering. “I want-”

“What do you want, baby?”

“Wanna taste.”

“Cute,” Seokjin laughs, a stark contrast to the cruel pace he has on Jeongguk’s cock. “Want to suck me off?”

“I- Yeah.”

“Go ahead, baby.”

It takes more strength than Jeongguk thought he had to disentangle himself from Seokjin, to push him back slightly and drop to his knees. He forgot to tuck his cock back into his pants and he doesn’t even care, fingers clumsy as he unzips Seokjin’s jeans, tugging his cock from his jeans, hesitantly stroking the length. He’s big, thick and curved, and Jeongguk’s mouth waters.

He feels Seokjin’s hand in his hair as he jerks Seokjin off, getting him hard and wet even as anticipation and arousal sit heavily in his stomach. Jeongguk wants Seokjin’s dick in his mouth so badly he aches, whining as he presses a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s hip.

Jeongguk kisses up Seokjin’s length, runs his tongue over the thick, prominent vein and revels in the shaky breath that Seokjin lets out. He suckles at the tip, licking precum from the tip before Jeongguk finally goes down on him, taking as much of Seokjin’s cock between his lips as he can before he has to pull back, take a deep breath, and swallow him down again.

“Shit, baby,” Seokjin moans. “You’re a dream, God- look so good like this.”

Jeongguk preens under the praise, closes his eyes and focuses on doing what he’s good at. He collects spit in his mouth, makes it wet and messy as he bobs his head, feels Seokjin’s cock in the back of his throat. Tears collect in the corners of his eyes as he takes Seokjin as far as he can, nose brushing the hair at the base of his dick before he swallows, his hips kicking forward in response.

“Sorry,” Seokjin gasps, pushes the hair out of Jeongguk’s eyes. “Shit, Jeongguk- you’re so-”

Jeongguk pulls off and draws in a shaky breath before he goes down again. He’s wanted this for so long, Seokjin’s cock, hot and heavy on his tongue, Seokjin’s smell and taste overwhelming all of his senses.

“You’re doing so well,” Seokjin praises, and Jeongguk feels his dick twitch. “So good, Jeongguk-ah, making me feel so good.”

Pulling back, Jeongguk stares up at him with tears in his eyes and spit on his chin. Seokjin’s eyes are wide, cheeks flushed, expression wild and before Jeongguk can say anything, he’s grabbing at Jeongguk’s shoulder and shirt, pulling him to his feet to kiss him breathless, licking into his mouth with a groan.

“You’re so-” Seokjin doesn’t finish, drawing Jeongguk into another bruising kiss.

Jeongguk’s fingers fumble in his pocket, drawing out a few packets of lube and pressing them into Seokjin’s hands. “Please.”

“Do you just…. Keep these in your pockets?” Seokjin asks, laughing.

“I have high hopes.”

“Ambitious.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth!”

“I know I’m hung but the comparisons are a little much.”

Jeongguk shoves him lightly, biting his lip as Seokjin fiddles with the lube. “Please?”

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah- yes,” Jeongguk says hurriedly, surging up to kiss Seokjin again. He’s flushed and panting, cock hard and curved against his stomach and he needs- he needs this. “Want it so bad.”

Seokjin nods, pressing a kiss to Jeongguk’s nose. “Turn around for me?”

He hears Seokjin ripping open the lube behind him as he pushes his jeans down and steps out of one leg. Jeongguk leans onto the counter, forearms pressed to the cool marble. He feels Seokjin’s hands on him, pushing his shirt up to smooth down his spine, squeezing his ass appreciatively, and stroking the inside of his thighs.

“Fuck,” Seokjin groans, drags his dry fingers over Jeongguk’s holes. “The things I could do to you.”

“Do them,” Jeongguk insists, pushing his ass out further. “All of it.”

Seokjin laughs, follows the trail of his hands with his tongue and teeth until Jeongguk is shivering, body tense, whining lightly where he stands. “That’s a bit much for one time.”

“Get on with it.” Jeongguk tries to be tough, but his voice cracks as he kicks lightly at Seokjin’s ankle. “Want your dick so far in me I choke on it.”

“Hot, but definitely not possible.” Seokjin trails his fingers to Jeongguk’s crack, fingers sticky and wet with lube. “Hey, JK. Why did Eve taste the forbidden apple?”

“God, fuck you. Why?”

“It tasted better than Adam’s banana.”

“You’re so lucky you’re hot,” Jeongguk mutters. “Now can you please get your fingers in me?”

“Okay, okay-”

Seokjin is still laughing as he gently pushes one finger in Jeongguk’s ass, meeting little resistance as he carefully preps his hole. Jeongguk moans loudly, unabashedly, presses his sweaty forehead to his forearm. He already wants more, can feel Seokjin’s hard dick against his thigh.

“More-”

“You need to adjust.”

“M’good,” Jeongguk insists, letting out a moan as Seokjin pushes his finger against Jeongguk’s walls. He doesn’t mention he’s fingered himself to the thought of Seokjin so often that he’s run out of clean sheets. Jimin and Taehyung have come home too many times in the last week to Jeongguk in their bed, too lazy to clean up after his third prostate massage orgasm of the night. “Another- hng- you can add another.”

“Okay, baby. Tell me if it’s too much.”

It’s not enough, really, even as Seokjin presses a second finger to Jeongguk’s slick hole, scissors his fingers and searches, fingering Jeongguk until he gasps, back arching and Seokjin’s name tumbling from his lips in a moan. Seokjin swiftly abuses the newfound knowledge, curling his fingers until Jeongguk is seeing stars, panting out gasps with each breath that he doesn’t even notice when Seokjin adds a third finger, stretching him quickly.

“Good,” Jeongguk whines, voice pitching as Seokjin plays with his prostate more. “I’m good, fuck- fuck me, come on-”

“Don’t be impatient.”

“Fuck you,” Jeongguk spits, but the heat is lost in the whimper that follows. “Please. Please, I can’t- need, need you in me- please-”

“Shit- Fuck, yeah.” Seokjin pulls his fingers out and presses a kiss to the top of Jeongguk’s spine. “I don’t have a condom-”

“Check my back pocket.”

“You’re a menace.”

Seokjin pulls away to search through Jeongguk’s jeans, finding the condom in Jeongguk’s pocket. His entire body shakes with anticipation as Seokjin rolls the condom over his length, uses the rest of the lube to slick up his cock and then he’s back, laying his body over Jeongguk’s, tilting his head to kiss him softly.

“Ready, baby?”

“Born ready, broski.”

“Do not say that with my dick against your ass.”

Jeongguk only laughs, but it falls into a moan as he feels the tip of Seokjin’s cock teases his hole, pushing in slowly. He bottoms out, stretching Jeongguk’s hole more than his fingers had, and Jeongguk shudders, choking on a moan. He’s so full, feels so good, it’s almost too much.

“Move,” Jeongguk begs. “Please- need it-”

Seokjin isn’t gentle about it and Jeongguk wouldn’t have it any other way. He draws almost entirely out of Jeonguk before thrusting in harshly, setting a pace that has Jeongguk’s body jerking against the counter, slipping and sliding as Seokjin fucks into him. Jeongguk grips the edge of the counter, tries to move his hips in time with Seokjin, Seokjin’s big hands on his hips, holding him steady even as his legs shake.

And Jeongguk can’t stay quiet, moaning Seokjin’s name, curses spilling from his lips, begging and whining, voice pitching higher and higher. Seokjin spreads his ass cheeks, presses a thumb to Jeongguk’s loose, sloppy hole and fucks into him harder. He’s already so worked up, on edge from Seokjin’s hand on his cock earlier, from finally getting his mouth on Seokjin.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jeongguk sobs, bites his own bicep to muffle his noises.

Seokjin clicks his tongue, slowing his pace to lean over Jeongguk’s body and gently urge his face out of his bicep. “None of that, baby. I want to hear you.”

Jeongguk cries out as Seokjin picks up his pace again, fucking into Jeongguk so roughly his entire body jerks with it. Seokjin kicks his legs further apart, changes the angle until he’s hitting Jeongguk’s prostate with every thrust, amplifying the pleasure.

He feels tears leak from his eyes, crying out Seokjin’s name as his toes curl, his thighs shaking. He can feel Seokjin’s lips at the back of his neck, kissing his flushed, sweaty skin. His cock slaps against his belly with every thrust and Jeongguk can’t. Jeongguk can’t hold on much longer, pleasure blooming fast and hard in the base of his belly.

“Seokjin,” Jeongguk gasps, throws his head back as Seokjin hits his prostate again. “M’close- shit- close, hng.”

“Gonna come?” Seokjin snaps his hips, sounding breathless and turned on and God, Jeongguk wishes he could see. He drops a hand to Jeongguk’s cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts. “Come, baby. Let me see you come.”

Jeongguk’s body seizes up as the pleasure crests, crying out as he comes with Seokjin’s name on his lips, spilling into Seokjin’s hands and maybe a little on the countertop, too. Jeongguk all but collapses onto the counter; chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath and come down, hair sweaty and matted to his face. It doesn’t take Seokjin long to follow, thrusting a few more times before his pace falters and he comes, buried deep in Jeongguk’s ass.

Both out of breath and a little shaky, Seokjin kisses each knob of his spine as they come down. He pulls out of Jeongguk slowly, kissing his shoulder as Jeongguk whimpers quietly.

“That was-”

“The bomb diggity.”

“I take it back,” Jeongguk says, even though he’s laughing. “It was okay.”

“Mhm, say that again when you catch your breath.”

“Shut up.”

Jeongguk turns around in Seokjin’s arms and hops up onto the counter, sanitation be damned. Seokjin wipes the cum from his hand onto, a towel, then uses the towel to clean Jeongguk’s thighs, his belly. Gently, he kisses the tear tracks on Jeongguk’s cheeks.

“You were amazing,” Seokjin says quietly, kissing across Jeongguk’s jaw. “Definitely worth that A plus.”

“Shut up,” Jeongguk laughs. He crosses his ankles at Seokjin’s back, pulling him close, plays with the collar of Seokjin’s shirt. “So where are you taking me to dinner?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, curls his palms over Jeongguk’s neck. “I don’t recall asking you out.”

“I’m asking you out.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m a confident gay now.”

“Is that why you can’t look me in the eye?”

“I have two lazy eyes.”

Seokjin snorts. “Jeongguk-ah, look at me.” It takes a very long moment, but Jeongguk finally manages to raise his head. “I don’t go out with people who can’t cook.”

Fuck. Fuck, Jeongguk should have known. Seokjin was so far out of his league, trained in America, teaching in Korea, tall and beautiful and the greatest lay anyone could ask for, Jeongguk shouldn’t be surprised that he only wanted sex-

“I understand,” Jeongguk says quietly. “I’ll just go-”

“Wait- let me finish,” Seokjin says, drops his hands to Jeongguk’s thighs to keep him steady. “You can’t cook for shit, but God you’re cute. And you can kinda cook a grilled cheese, which counts in my book.”

“You know what this means,” Jeongguk says, heart beating erratically in his chest. He’s still too nervous to hold direct eye contact. Seokjin’s post-sex glow is seriously magical. Seokjin makes an inquisitive hum. “Private lessons.”

“No,” Seokjin says immediately. “Absolutely not. You’re not allowed anywhere near my beautiful kitchen.”

Jeongguk pouts, tilting his head. “Not at all?”

“Well…” Seokjin leans in to kiss him; softer and gentler than the kisses they’ve shared thus far. “You’ll be allowed to grab the chocolate sauce from the fridge.”

“Nice!”

“Come on.” Seokjin helps him off the counter, giving him another kiss when Jeongguk makes a face at the pain that shoots up his ass. “Let’s clean up in the bathroom. I know a good barbeque place nearby.”

Jeongguk hums, shimmying into his boxers and jeans. “Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

“Trust me,” Seokjin interrupts, eyes dark and hard. He curls a hand at the back of Jeongguk’s neck, pulls him close until their noses brush. “I want to.”

“Stop doing that. I’m a weak man- are you older than me?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, wiping down the counters with wipes and towels. He quickly washes the last of the tools that Jeongguk had used while Jeongguk polishes off four cupcakes without pausing to breathe.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, I’m older than you. Ninety-two liner.”

“How do you know-?”

“Hold that thought,” Seokjin squeezes his lips, handing the plate of cupcakes over to Jeongguk. “Let’s go before the cleaning crew comes in.”

Jeongguk shivers, realizes very belatedly that they hadn't locked the door, and that at any moment someone could have walked in and seen Seokjin absolutely wrecking him. In the hallway, Jeongguk pulls Seokjin’s arms around his shoulder, continues, “How do you know I’m not that year?”

“You entered your age in the application.”

“Oh. Yeah. Hyung, I’m gonna eat a hole through your wallet.”

“If you eat more than me I’ll eat you out tonight.”

“Holy fuck- deal.”

Jeongguk’s hands are shaking, sweat on his brow as he tries to focus. He bites his lip, trembling, his entire body warm with anticipation, forehead slick from exertion.

Seokjin isn’t much help, distracting Jeongguk with hands squeezing his hips, warm breath on the back of his neck.

“Come on, Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin whispers. “You can do it, baby.”

“I’m trying, hyung,” Jeongguk whispers.

He crooks his fingers, trying to find the best spot, groaning when he can’t seem to do it.

Seokjin moves his hands, warm and big on Jeongguk’s stomach. “Just a little more, baby. Clench, and-”

Jeongguk breaks the egg in his hand, spilling the entire thing into the batter.

“Fuck!”

“I really thought you had it that time,” Seokjin sighs, stepping back and looking at the pile of eggshells on the counter.

Wiping his hand on his jeans, Jeongguk then sticks his hand in the batter to try and fish out the shells. “It’s fine, we can leave it. It’ll add a little crunch. A surprise. Chocolate chip surprise cookies.”

“No,” Seokjin says. “Absolutely not. You can slap me during sex but you can’t wound my pride. Let’s do it again.”

“Can’t we just have sex, instead?” Jeongguk whines, as Seokjin crosses the kitchen to grab the eggs from the fridge.

Nothing in the kitchen had been cleaned in weeks, both Jimin and Taehyung refusing to clean and instead eating cereal out of frying pans. Hoseok had gotten frustrated and bought them new bowls, which just ended up dirty in the sink while they ate off the clean Frisbee Taehyung found under his bed. Seokjin, the first time Jeongguk brought him home, had made Jeongguk help clean the entire kitchen. Which was tiny, but they had a great skill for stacking plates as high as possible.

It’s been almost three weeks and Seokjin still won’t let Jeongguk anywhere near his own, high-tech, beautiful, awe-inspiring kitchen (his words, not Jeongguk’s). He says Jeongguk has to be a better cook before he visits. And apparently, that means cracking a damn egg without all the shells ending up in the bowl.

“I have literally never been less turned on than I am right now,” Seokjin says, holding up four eggs.

“I think I’d rather you had a foot fetish instead of a food fetish.”

Seokjin pokes him in the chest. “Don’t lump me in the same category as Taehyung.”

“You don’t even know the shit I could do to your toes thanks to him.”

“Stop talking.” Seokjin cleans out the bowls, looking forlornly at the batter as he throws it away. Apparently they were done trying to make cookies. “If you’re going to date me, you need to know how to crack an egg. Literally the most basic step to cooking-”

“What if I don’t want to date you?”

“I’ll never let you taste my crème brûlée.”

Jeongguk shoves himself between Seokjin and the counter, settling into his arms. He takes the egg with a frown, lightly cracking it on the counter. “Baby, I’ll taste your brûlée all night long-”

“This is disgusting. How long is this going to go on?”

“Sh, Tae, this shit is better than porn.”

“It’s only better than porn because you know how big Seokjin’s dick is-”

“Why have you seen his dick?”

“Don’t worry, Hobi hyung." Jimin says, squeezing his own cheeks. "Yours is still second to Taehyung’s.”

“Second-?”

Jeongguk groans, hand all sticky as he breaks another egg entirely between his fingers. “You guys can leave, you know.”

Seokjin had met his friends and unfortunately gotten along with them far better than Jeongguk ever anticipated. He'd learned about the bet when Jimin had angrily tucked a few bills in the waistband of Taehyung's underwear, taking the money for himself when he'd learned they were the ones to sign Jeongguk up for the class in the first place. Jeongguk had been mortified, until Seokjin used the money to buy them ice cream to eat off each other that night.

Taehyung hides his grin behind a mug of tea. “And miss out on the show? Nah.”

“I’m not sucking hyung’s dick in front of you,” Jeongguk mutters.

“Not again, you mean.” Taehyung says.

“That was an accident!” Jeongguk whirls on his feet, wielding the egg like a throwing star, but he doesn’t get far. Seokjin holds his arms tight around Jeongguk’s waist and keeps him still. “I didn’t know you were in the room!”

“Didn’t stop when you saw me!”

“You suck Jimin’s dick in front of me all the time!”

“Let’s just-” Seokjin can’t stop him from throwing the egg at Taehyung, who screams and launches himself onto Hoseok’s lap. “Let’s go out to eat. I might cry if I watch you try to cook any longer.”

Jeongguk immediately perks up, grabbing the last three eggs and slamming them into the sink. Eggs are expensive but fuck capitalism. “Can I suck your dick in the bathroom?”

“If you’re good.”

Jeongguk drags him close, hand curled in the collar of his shirt to kiss him hard. “You know I never am.”

That night, Taehyung sits up on the couch with three pocky sticks in his mouth, eyes glued to a romantic drama he'd spent the afternoon forcing his boyfriends to watch with him. Hoseok had fallen asleep first, his head in Taehyung's lap, fingers curled cutely on Taehyung's thigh, and while Jimin had lasted longer, he'd fallen asleep a short while ago, his face pressed to Taehyung's neck.

Taehyung likes this, likes being smothered with love and affection, likes the nights they don't have anything to do. It's quiet in the apartment, evidence of Seokjin and Jeongguk's failed cooking expedition still spread all over the counters. Taehyung definitely will not be the one to clean that up. Maybe he can suck Hoseok off and he'll do it, instead.

Jimin's drooling a little in his sleep, breath warm against Taehyung's neck, and the main protagonist on screen is about to confess his year-long crush when the door to the apartment slams open. Jimin startles awake, jerking in Taehyung's arms and mumbling unhappily, while Hoseok simply buries his face deeper in Taehyung's thigh, breathing deeply in contentment. Taehyung glances at Jimin, rubbing sleep from his eyes, both of them confused- and Taehyung very unhappy about his drama, this main protagonist was the only fictional man he'd give rights to- until Seokjin and Jeongguk come barreling in.

For a minute, Taehyung thinks they're about to start making out, which, as hot as it is to watch Jeongguk choke and cry on cock, Taehyung wasn't really in the mood tonight- but no, Jeongguk was stiffly locking the door and Seokjin looked like his entire family had just been offended.

"It's your fault we got kicked out," Jeongguk is saying.

"Me?" Seokjin laughs. "You're the one who dropped the cheesecake!"

"Because you wouldn't stop talking about your refined palate!"

"I have an excellent palate!"

"Hyung," Jeongguk says, whirling on his feet. He's tugging off his tie and Taehyung pouts. He loves ties. "You could tell there was one spice missing from your dish and you told our waiter to tell the chef that you could make it better!"

Seokjin nods, aggressively kicking off his shoes. "I can make it better and I will, tomorrow. And you're not allowed to eat any of it."

"What! Why!"

"You don't support my refined palate, that's why!"

Jeongguk throws his suit jacket over the back of a chair. "Stop saying refined palate."

"Stop burning toast on the lowest setting."

"Toasters are purposefully tricky!"

"No, they're not!" Seokjin helps to untuck the bottom of Jeongguk's button-down. "They're convenient and easy to use!"

"Your dick is easy to use."

"Then why are you always choking on it?"

"God- shut the fuck-"

Jeongguk hooks a hand at the back of Seokjin's neck, pulling him in for a kiss that Taehyung can hear from across the room. They're still grumbling, but all that matters is Taehyung can't see any leftovers from their dinner date, so he's uninterested. Seokjin does something that makes Jeongguk whimper, guiding him backwards through the apartment.

They break apart, gasping for breath against each other's mouth, passing the living room as Jeongguk is eagerly unbuttoning Seokjin's pants. Jimin whistles, still half asleep against Taehyung's shoulder, and they finally notice the trio lounging on the couch.

"Oh. Hey, Tae," Seokjin greets, waving as Jeongguk sucks a violent mark onto his neck.

"Sup, dudebro." Taehyung leans to the side, trying to watch the TV around whatever degrading shit Seokjin is whispering to Jeongguk. "If he starts getting mouthy just bite his ear."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Tae!"

Seokjin curls his hands beneath Jeongguk's thighs, lifting him and finally carrying Jeongguk to his bedroom and out of sight. With a sigh, Taehyung grabs for the remote and rewinds the show, having missed everything for Jeongguk's little performance. Jeongguk really should have stuck to camming if this was what Taehyung would have to endure. Taehyung reaches for the headphones he keeps between the couch cushions for nights like these and sets a timer on his phone for how long it'll take Seokjin to make Jeongguk cry.

Jimin whines unhappily at the noise of the TV, mumbling against Taehyung's neck, "That was worse than the time Hobi hyung tried to dom you."

Taehyung snorts and Hoseok punches his kneecap.

“Theoretically, if none of us exist and this is all a simulation, then nothing can happen to me if I don’t finish this assignment.”

“Theoretically it wouldn’t hurt if I hit you,” Yoongi replies, to which Namjoon puts on his best pout. “I’m kidding, baby. Mostly. If you talk about Kant any longer I’ll suffocate both of us.”

“I Kant help it.”

“Don’t.”

“Good one,” Seokjin says, leaning over the coffee table to high-five Namjoon. “Anyone else hungry?”

“Don’t you have a twink in your bed?” Yoongi asks, one headphone looped around his ear. He’s working on a surprise mix for Namjoon’s birthday, being secretive and in love and gross.

Seokjin hums, scrolling through delivery places on his phone. “Takes one to know one.”

“Got me there.”

“But to answer your question, yes Jeongguk is still asleep. He came so hard he fell asleep and it was adorable. Why do you think I’m so hungry?”

Namjoon makes a noise of pain. “What happened to boundaries? I miss when we had those.”

Seokjin orders enough food to feed a family of nine, and then a little extra for Namjoon and Yoongi. Jeongguk had finally cracked an egg properly last night, and when Seokjin offered to eat him out as a reward, Jeongguk said he wanted nothing more than to see the magical kitchen. He’d asked Seokjin to marry him when he saw the fridge and sucked Seokjin off when he saw the fully stocked pantry. Then, he'd demanded Seokjin carry him to bed, and had only left the bed once to shower- where he'd found the jacuzzi tub and managed to get hard again.

The food comes, and like expected, Namjoon and Yoongi claim a few takeout boxes for themselves. Yoongi shows one of the songs he’s working on, lies about what it’s for, and Namjoon talks himself into a philosophical conundrum that takes ten minutes and four duck jokes to get out of.

Before the food gets cold, Jeongguk stumbles out of Seokjin’s bedroom, wearing a pair of Seokjin’s sweatpants and one of his old baseball long-sleeve shirts. His hair is a disheveled mess, sticking up, neck blotchy with enough marks to scar a nun for life. He’s rubbing at his eyes, limping a little, but he smiles shyly when he spots Seokjin, crossing the room to sit on Seokjin’s lap.

“Morning, hyung.”

“It’s afternoon, baby.”

“You kept me up all night,” Jeongguk complains, grabbing for a container of lo mein. “It’s morning if I want it to be.”

Seokjin laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around Jeongguk’s waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. Yoongi and Namjoon look on a little fondly, but they’re still disgusted. “You’re the one who wanted to test your limit. I told you to stop after four.”

“But the fifth hurt so good.”

Seokjin pinches his thigh. “We’ll try for six next time.”

“Oh, God.”

“Anyway,” Seokjin says, glaring over Jeongguk’s head as Yoongi pretends to gag. “Jeongguk, these are the only two people somewhat worthy of being my best friends. Yoongi and Namjoon, resident tentacle porn enthusiasts-”

“That was for an art project!” Yoongi hisses.

Seokjin shakes his head. “What art project needs tentacles, Yoongi?”

“I’ve seen those skirts in your dresser, hyung, don’t-”

“Those aren’t for me but go off I guess.”

“Wait a minute,” Jeongguk says quietly, around a mouthful of food. He’s warm and solid on Seokjin’s lap and Seokjin could definitely get used to afternoons like this. Jeongguk is staring at Yoongi, a small frown on his lips. “Do I know you?”

Yoongi crosses and uncrosses his legs, adjusts his laptop on his thighs. “No?”

Jeongguk pouts lightly, and Seokjin resists the urge to kiss him silly because he looks like a man on a mission. “Faded blond hair, dark grey flannel, and… a blue beanie? Oh! March sixteenth, you slept with my best friend!”

“I- What?”

“Kim Taehyung!”

“Oh,” Yoongi laughs, relaxing into the couch. “Yeah, fuck. You were the guy eating ice cream when I left.”

“Yeah!”

“Why were you eating ice cream at five in the morning?”

Jeongguk is grinning, shoveling food into his mouth. “Tae eats ice cream for breakfast so I’ll wake up early and eat the good ones before he can.”

“Chaotic.” To Seokjin, he says, “I like this one. But damn, Kim Taehyung. Best goddam fuck of my life.”

Namjoon kicks him in the shin. “Hey.”

“Sorry, Joon-ah. I met him at a bar before you asked me out.” Yoongi says, “You’re amazing, really. But sometimes you just want someone to dom you until you cry.”

“I could dom you,” Namjoon mutters.

At that, Seokjin snorts and even Namjoon grins sheepishly when he registers what he said. Jeongguk has finished the lo mein and moved onto the fried dumplings, snuggling against Seokjin’s chest.

“How is Taehyung, anyway?” Yoongi asks, scratching his fingers through Namjoon’s hair to get him to stop pretending to pout. “I lost his number.”

“Adopted a dog, started dating our best friend. Then also started dating our other best friend.”

“If he’s ever looking for a fivesome, slip him my number.”

“Any plans for the day?” Seokjin asks very loudly, glaring at Yoongi again.

Jeongguk is still eating, picking at three different containers of food. He can almost rival Seokjin when it comes to eating and honestly, it’s one of the hottest things Seokjin has ever seen. “I have to register for classes.”

“Want to go on a proper date tonight?”

“What about everything else we’ve been doing?”

“Didn’t count before I let you in my kitchen.”

Yoongi says, “He’s not lying. You’re the first guy he’s let in our kitchen in years. Haven’t had to deal with the shitty thin walls in so long.”

Jeongguk flushes, cheeks bright red, and tries to hide in some fried rice. “Yes, we can go on a date,” he says, whispering it beneath the sounds of Namjoon quizzing himself. Seokjin presses his face to Jeongguk’s neck, smiling wide.

Jeongguk slams the oven door shut harder than he needs to. He’d told Seokjin not to worry about dinner, planning to surprise his boyfriend with a home cooked meal that would showcase everything he’s learned over the past few months. Despite outright refusal at first, Seokjin had started giving him lessons. Most of the time the lessons ended with Jeongguk getting his ass ate on the kitchen table, but they were lessons nonetheless.

But Jeongguk had burned dinner. And now he’s staring at burned food and mushy vegetables and water he never managed to boil.

“Hyung!” He stalks through the apartment, empty because Seokjin had kicked Yoongi and Namjoon out for the night. Kicking off his shoes as he approaches the bedroom door, Jeongguk finds him lying in bed, scrolling through his phone. “Dinner is canceled. All food production is canceled forever.”

Seokjin looks up from his phone, absolutely unsurprised. “We can order something.”

With a pout, Jeongguk crawls onto the bed, straddling Seokjin’s waist. “But I’m supposed to impress you,” Jeongguk whines. “Wine and dine the shit out of you, show off my skills so you’re all ready to eat a chocolate covered strawberry out of my ass-”

“That’s not how it works, but cute.”

“Hyung.”

Hands sliding up Jeongguk’s hips, Seokjin squeezes his waist reassuringly. “It’s okay, baby. You’ll get better. Or I’ll just have to dump you.”

“You can’t. Hoseok’s moving into the apartment and Taehyung keeps trying to get Yeontan and I to wear matching outfits, hyung, you can’t do that to me- hyung!”

“Sorry,” Seokjin is laughing, that windshield wiper laugh that Jeongguk likes so much. “Sorry, I mean it. Your friends are a disaster.”

“Just like my life.”

“Mood.”

Jeongguk reaches over to grab Seokjin’s phone, lying on the pillow by his head. He orders their usual from a nearby place, offers to suck Seokjin’s dick so he doesn’t have to pay. College kills the man. With the order placed, Jeongguk plants his hands on both sides of Seokjin’s head and kisses him, wet and deep.

Seokjin hums, as they break apart; too used to Jeongguk either ruining dinner or convincing him to order to get distracted by trivial kisses. “I’ve got a new class starting next week.”

“Better not fuck one of your students.”

“Trust me,” Seokjin says, digging his fingers into the meat of Jeongguk’s thighs. “There is no other student who could drive me as far up a wall as you do.”

“Aw, babe. You flatter me.”

“Mhm. Kiss me again before I remember the time you burned cereal.”

Jeongguk snickers, but leans in to kiss him again, letting out a soft noise as Seokjin moves his hand to cup Jeongguk’s ass. They get lost in it, moving with each other with familiar ease and Jeongguk can feel heat pooling in his belly, wants Seokjin to move, touch him more, feels a feather light touch against his cock-

Just before the fire alarm goes off.

“Fuck!” Jeongguk squeaks, rolling off Seokjin and diving off the bed. He’d forgotten to turn the oven off… and remove the burned food. “I didn’t do it!”

Seokjin only sighs, briefly leaving the room to turn off the alarm and the oven. “Please come out from beneath the bed,” he says when he returns, carrying several bags of food to lure Jeongguk out of hiding. He takes his phone, hands Jeongguk his usual, and starts looking up models of new ovens.